Don't you dare leave me
by Mutyasha
Summary: "Yao-kun never talks to me anymore, da." "I do talk to you, aru." "China talks to Russia. Yao-kun never talks to me anymore, da..." "..."  "I thought we were friends, da..." AN: first uploaded story, FINALLY A TITLE!
1. Talk to me

**Chapter 1: Talk to me**

AN: SO! First uploaded story ever... –scared-

-cough- This was a request a friend of mine did a few weeks ago. I must say, this story wrote itself after she gave me that little piece of information from Wikipedia (the italic parts, I don't own). Seriously. The story is about 18 pages and a line long in my notebook (_big notebook_) and I told the people around me that I was almost finished since page 10... –sigh-

So, I hope you enjoy this part of the story. I already have the second part written out (since I hope this oneshot-turned-long-story will be put at bay around chapter 3) and I'll upload it sometime next week, when I know for sure that I like it.

"..." talk (should speak for itself)  
>'...' thought (like you didn't know already)<br>_italics_ Wikipedia-parts/important parts of mono- or dialogue

-**real story starts here**_-_

_After the EU arms embargo on China imposed after the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989, a series of demonstrations where the movement –led mainly by students and intellectuals- used mainly non-violent methods, China became a reliable client for Russian military exports, making up 25-50% of all foreign military sales_

oOo

"Yao-kun is a happy client of Russia, da?"

Brown eyes looked up from the papers, briefly glancing at the violet ones of the other, bigger nation, sitting there like always. Still that light blush-like darkening on the cheeks, still those sparkling, unpredictable eyes, still smiling that scary smile -scary because it looks so innocent.

It doesn't scare Yao, though. Having more than four thousand years of experience with the world (_literally_), one big psychopath couldn't scare the land of the Dragon!

He quickly looked back at the charts in his hands, numbers and names translated to his own language and showing what and how much his nation would now purchase of the others military exports. Though he didn't immediately want to respond he _was_ satisfied with the trading between them, so he guessed…

"…Yes-aru. Your technology will be good for my country to have."

"Yokata-na~," the other replied after a few seconds, sounding sincerely happy for some reason, "it would be bad for me if my most important client wouldn't be pleased with me. Perhaps we can even be friends, da?"

Slightly alarmed, the red-clad nation snapped to attention, locking slightly shocked eyes on the closed-eyed face of the other. That was not something he expected-aru! The Russian must be on one of his "Become one with Russia"-tirades again!

…Still, the light-haired man looked sincerely innocent, with a _real_ light blush on his now tilted face and his eyes closed. Even the smile looked a bit less psychopath-innocent and a bit more…real…

He quickly composed himself again, lightly coughing and looking away.  
>After a few seconds, he shifted a bit and straightened his long shirt, hesitantly opening his mouth to respond.<p>

"…Perhaps…aru…"

Ivan just smiled a bit broader.

'_It doesn't even look that creepy anymore, aru…'_

oOo

_More recently there has been a pro-China shift in the trade balance as there has been a dramatic fall in the Chinese purchase of Russian weapons and military technology. This can be linked to the fact that Russia is only willing to send Soviet-era technology that China is beginning to be able to match independently, and refuses to sell its advanced technology due to fears that China would reverse engineer Russian imports to improve its own military exports that would then be able to undercut Russia in other foreign markets._

_No one really thought about the nations themselves when this happened…_

oOo

"Yao-kun never talks to me anymore, da…"

The smaller of the two turned around, stopping in his path to the door. They had just finished a meeting with the other nations, trying to see how they could help Kiku with his country. The poor man was devastated, but wasn't as badly affected by the tsunami as some expected, still trying to be strong for his people.

He quickly looked the other nation over; no long coat, so no hidden axes or lead pipes in there (though he had his doubts about the latter), normal shirt, the man was still wearing that scarf –even though the sun shone outside ('Does he even have a neck underneath that, aru?), and no killer-aura visible in his face or around him. Rather, his posture looked almost as if the other had slumped a bit, slightly sagging shoulders and eyes and brows drawn in an almost sad expression. Even the psycho-innocent smile was gone.

'Doesn't look like a threat yet, aru…'

A quick glance around them confirmed that, yes, they were now alone in the hall and yes, the other nation was still the big, intimidating-looking Russian but no, he didn't look that threatening right now and hadn't made any indication of being in a murderous mood.

Yao looked at the other's face again, relaxing just the slightest bit from the surprise-induced tensing Ivan had invoked with his sudden remark.

"I do talk to you, aru. We just talked in the meeting."

Ivan shook his head in a slightly sad manner, looking down while answering: "China talks to Russia. Yao-kun never talks to _me_ anymore, da…"

Though the big man was slowly tensing up and clenching his fists, the red-clad nation wasn't intimidated: the words indicated this wasn't anger-induced, but rather caused by feeling…helpless…

His eyes widened.

"W… What do you mean, aru?"

Next thing he knew, violet eyes pinned him to the floor, staring at him with one of the most serious, but also one of the saddest stares he had seen in a while.

"I thought we were friends, da…"

It didn't even sound like a question: the light-haired man really believed it was true.

Yao still had his doubts.

With wide eyes and a slightly raised voice, he answered: "We were- I had- I mean, I was your client!" He even forgot his habitual "aru", as strange as this conversation was going.

"But Yao liked talking with me, da? About food and flowers and other nations, da…?" Ivan looked even more distressed then the other now, gesturing with his hands and breathing just the slightest bit quicker. His eyes were wide and sad, almost _pleading_- but Yao knew that couldn't be true. Ivan Braginski, Russia in human-form himself, only pleaded –begged actually- when Belarus was around.

Yao immediately shuddered.

'Scary woman, aru…'

He shook his head, clearing away the slightly distracting thoughts, and looked at the other again. Nope, still there, and still strangely distressed and sad. Meaning he still had to answer the strange questions.

His eyes clouded over slightly, contemplating the years since the protest. While he certainly couldn't say they were "real friends", he had still liked the company the other brought when one of them visited the other. Usually, Yao only came to talk more about agreements and stuff, but the Russian always smiled (in a non-psycho way) and managed to get the nation to stay a bit longer by his own free will. Though the old country couldn't remember how, Ivan had succeeded in leading many a conversation to trifle subjects, like, indeed, what food they liked, or what flowers were nice in their opinion, or how they thought of other nations. Surprisingly, the usually so threatening nation only showed real cheer and happiness during those conversations (unless it involved his sisters, or other awkward or depressing things). Ivan also made a habit of giving little surprise-visits to the other nation, always managing to stay put until he managed to get tea and conversation out of his supposed host –that is, until said host wasn't scare- _surprised_ anymore, and stopped shoving the bigger nation to the door, and stopped complaining about how he should stop this if it didn't involve the economy or some other situation of their respective country…

Still, Yao _had_ liked the others company, more or less. He just never thought about it as _friendship_, of all things.

"…Yao-kun…likes me, da…? Yao-kun is my friend…da?"

That sounded way too close. Snapping out of whatever thoughts still invaded his head, he looked up to see the sad Russian right in front of him, looking almost concerned –and a bit scared.

Scared of what? That he'd say no? Whatever they had, it started with the trading. Yao was certain of that, at least.

"…My country is- was your client, but you refuse to sell us anything outside the Soviet-era technology. It's been years, aru, and my people need better trading" he said, choosing neutral ground; don't answer the question, just tell why there's less communication.

Ivan's eyes suddenly hardened, determination flowing over the concern and fear. "I won't give you the newer technology, da. It's dangerous."

Yao scoffed, suddenly filled with a strangely sharp irritation to the other. "I have lived for more than four thousand years, aru. Some new weapons will not kill me that easily."

"They can still hurt you, da."

Yao crossed his arms and stared hard into the violet eyes of the other, almost challenging him to defy what he would say next.

"Why do you care so much, aru? I know you want my country, but I'll never surrender, and in the past years our so-called "relationship" was neutral at best, trading military technology, aru. I was nothing more than a client, and I can just go to anybody else for that –which I _will_, aru."

He expected some murderous aura, or that ominous "kolkolkol" of the other. Instead, the tall nation stood stock-still, staring at him. He didn't smile, he didn't frown. Just…stood.

'What. The. Hell, aru?'

After a few seconds of tense staring, Yao looked away, staring at a certain spot on the wall.

This conversation was so _weird_, aru. And he didn't like this reaction at all!

So busy ignoring the other's stare, he barely noticed the small sigh before the hair of his ponytail was suddenly lifted of his shoulder.

'Wha-?'

Whipping his head back at the other, he almost ripped his hair out of a soft grip. But it was just long enough to leave a length in the others hand, fingers slowly weaving through and twiddling with the ends of the brown hair.

He gaped, not able to say anything. His arms, now limp, fell to his sides in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide open.

Ivan… He-…!

'He's touching my hair, aru! Not even pulling it, just _playing_ with it! And what's with that strange look?'

Said strange look was a mix of determination, concern, worry and something he didn't recognize on the other's face. His jaw was tensed, his brows frowning just the slightest bit and his mouth was a strict line. His eyes, looking almost soft with the strange emotion-mix, were staring intently at the others hair he was playing with.

Then the gaze slowly lifted, hand going from lightly fiddling with the hair to softly gripping the shoulder it had lain upon, both grip and gaze full of determination.

"I don't want Yao to be hurt, da" he said slowly, still gazing at the other. Then his grip tightened just a bit, eyes hardening with it. "The new weapons are dangerous, and I won't let the ones I care for hurt themselves with them, da."

Yao almost stopped breathing, already having had difficulties with the strange, thick air since the other had picked up his hair.

'The ones he… He cares about…?'

First his face blanched when the words finally settled, then his cheeks got rosy. Not red, just a little bit coloured.

'Is he saying that I… He cares about _me_? But-'

When he tried to speak, he tripped over the heavy air, having to literally force the words past his non-cooperative lips, and even then they came out in a harsh whisper.

"Wh- what do you mean, aru?"

Ivan stared, face now completely unreadable. The grip on his shoulder slowly tightened, before it suddenly loosened, the taller nation's shoulders sagging with a soft exhale ('Was that a sigh, aru?'). He broke the stare, violet eyes lowering and clouding over.

They stood like that for a while, one looking up at the other with shocked eyes and the other looking down with a sad air, still not removing his hand from the small nation's shoulder, almost enveloping it entirely.

'His hand… It's big,' a small voice suddenly whispered in Yao's mind, sounding almost like a child. 'It's big, and warm… Kinda heavy too, but… It's almost a _nice_ kind of heavy…'

After a few moments, Ivan started to slowly shake his head, closing his eyes while his fingers picked up the loose strands again, but still resting his wrist on the others shoulder. He looked the smaller one in the eyes, revealing his own now sad eyes. Hand slowly grasping the point between shoulder and neck, he leaned down, refraining the other from moving away with his grip. Then, he slowly connected his lips to the lightly flushing cheek, barely touching the skin.

Yao's breathing had definitely stopped now.

Still frozen in a shocked stare, he felt how the lips parted from his cheek just the slightest bit, warm breath flowing over the no-it's-not-darkening-shaddup skin. He almost started breathing with relief again when the Russian leaned even further, previously warm breath now very hot against his ear.

The small nation's face turned a colour almost as red as his flag, breathing fast and inwardly denying these reactions with a passion. As -cough- "_distressed_" as he was, he almost missed what the Russian did –or, more accurately, _said_ next.

"_Do svidaniya, Yao-chan._"

The words were spoken softer than a breath, warm but sad in his ear. However, when the words registered in Yao's mind, they felt like a thunder strike to the small nation, his breath stopping again, red face now paler than ever before and eyes staring at nothing.

' '_Goodbye_'? Why's he saying goodbye? Why does he sound so sad? Is he saying he won't sell anything to me anymore or-'

His frantic thoughts were interrupted by a sudden light –but cold- feeling on his shoulder. Focusing his eyes again, he caught one last glimpse of Ivan's sad eyes -looking at his hair, slowly fiddling with the ends of the strands like he tried to memorize it. Then he walked away, passing Yao who almost shuddered at the sad atmosphere now surrounding the Russian with a wide perimeter.

A door opened and clicked shut, leaving China alone in the suddenly cold and bleak hall.


	2. I'm not leaving

**Chapter 2: I'm not leaving**

AN: _Heilige Scheiße_, people, you kind of filled my inbox with your faves. o_o

Everybody, thank you very, very much for the faves. -heart-  
>And hugs to mistyfang, Felineguardian and chibisrule943 because they reviewed. Here I thought I wouldn't get any. -heart-<p>

Since I get the impression you girls/guys like this story so far, I thought: Heck, I got the second part written out already, why not?

Oh, I forgot to mention last chapter that I don't own Hetalia - Axis Powers or any of its characters.

I also forgot to mention that my creativity ran out when it came to the title-part. Any ideas? I would love to hear some since I seriously have none.

Oh, and I _also_ hadn't mentioned that this is rated T for safety yet, have I? Oh well, better late than never.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. My friend certainly did.

-**real story starts here**-

_His frantic thoughts were interrupted by a sudden light –but cold- feeling on his shoulder. Focusing his eyes again, he caught one last glimpse of Ivan's sad eyes -looking at his hair, slowly fiddling with the ends of the strands like he tried to memorize it. Then he walked away, passing Yao who almost shuddered at the sad atmosphere now surrounding the Russian with a wide perimeter._

_A door opened and clicked shut, leaving China alone in the suddenly cold and bleak hall._

oOo

'Na-... Nanka... iru, aru?'

Now he did shudder, feeling small and abandoned in the big, empty space. His eyes were wide, breath shallow and fast again. It felt like he couldn't get enough air in this room, atmosphere heavy and oppressive. And why couldn't he see anything? Everything looked like a blurry blob of bleak colour.

He turned around, searching for that violet he needed right now, wanting to assure himself the other hadn't really left.

No violet, or the light colour of his hair, or the white of his scarf.

'_He left me._'

A hammer pounded once on his heart, turning it ice-cold.

'_He really left me._'

The hammer turned into an axe, trying to slice the painfully frozen organ.

'_And just when I thought...that I wouldn't be alone anymore..._'

Whatever hit next, it shattered his heart, ice now spreading through his whole body.

'_I'm...alone..._'

A strange sound suddenly rang in his ears, startling him. It repeated, making him turn around again and again as he tried to locate it. After a few seconds, the time span between them got smaller, Yao now recognizing it as some sort of choked sound, muffled, from a human's mouth. He still couldn't see anything beside the blurry forms, but his hearing told him the source of the sounds was incredibly close by.

Still searching, he raised a hand to his cheek. They felt so warm and scratchy all of a sudden.

When he made contact with the offending skin, he felt how wet it was. Hot droplets streamed over his fingers as he froze.

'I'm...crying?'

His shoulders hitched as the sound rang again, hand still pressed to his face feeling how warm breath flowed over his skin as it passed his lips.

'I'm...crying.'

His hand lifted from its place, now held in front of him. It glistened with tears, cooling down as Yao saw how the offending limb was trembling slightly.

'I'm crying. And I'm alone.'

The tears fell faster now, and the nation didn't know what to do; give up and cry his heart out or try and stop the tears and trembling.

Instead, he stared down at his trembling hands, feeling like he was half-broken already.

'_I don't want to be alone._'

His head snapped up, almost giving himself a whiplash as he turned straight to the door the other had left through. Left _him_.

'_I don't want him to leave me._'

How had he gone from standing in the middle of the hall to grasping the doorknob? And why was he still shaking all over? And why won't the goddamn slippery, difficult-to-grasp doorknob just _turn_-

The door opened.

'Doesn't matter. I need to find him _now_!'

He sprinted away, racing through the halls. Luckily his sight was less blurry since the tears weren't clogging it anymore, though the new ones were still falling. He didn't know how much time had passed since Ivan left, but if he just ran fast enou- _There!_ A corner of a white scarf fluttered in the breeze from outside, just before it disappeared and the door shut after it.

Pushing his legs, he forced himself to go faster, sight going blurry again as tears fell faster.

'_Don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me don't you _dare_ leave me alone-_'

Stupid door, stupid shaking hand, stupid doorknob for being so slippery and _stupid Ivan for leaving him and making him cry and walking away and confusing him and-_

Finally -_finally_- the door opened. He threw it open, not caring whether it would hit something or someone _because the big bastard was already walking away and if he didn't hurry up-!_

He crashed into a back, having had too much speed to stop himself when reaching the other. In fact, he was pretty sure that he'd raced so hard that, combined with his weight, he easily could've bowled the other one over.

Ivan did stumble, but managed to stay upright. Yao mentally thanked him for doing so, because Ivan falling would mean that he would fall too.

Especially when he was clutching the other this tightly, arms wound around the broad chest and white-knuckled hands almost tearing the shirt covering said chest apart.

And god damn it, he's _still_ shaking.

Pressing his face in the other's back, he breathed heavily, trying to muffle any escaping tears and cries whilst unknowingly taking in the other's scent.

Vodka. Snow –the cold, awful snow General Winter brought. Sunflowers. Gunpowder. That dish Yao wouldn't even _try_ to repeat –even inwardly. Strange, strong tea. Old water. Soap. Grass. Something that reminded him of metal and rust. And a hint of those peculiar smells one could get when in fear, in stress and from sheer nerves.

How could a shirt this new already be so saturated with the other's scent? 'How can Ivan _keep_ all those old smells on him, aru?'

He rubbed his face in the cloth, drying the still falling tears. Then, pressing his cheek to the damp silky stuff, he opened his eyes with a slightly shuddering sigh, seeing white.

'Ah, his scarf, aru. That's why.'

"Yao...?"

It was soft. Soft and hesitant and _hoping_. How could Ivan make him feel so relieved with barely a breath in the shape of his name? It almost made him cry again.

Damn it, it _did_ make him cry again!

He closed his eyes again –he couldn't see anything but blurry colours anyway. Then he turned his head, rubbing his wet cheeks in the scarf with a small sound. Taking deep breaths, he took in more of the myriad of smells in the old, well-loved scarf.

It was almost strange, how well he could breathe with his throat feeling so thick and his heartbeat literally throbbing fast and hard in it.

"Don't...you _dare_...l-leave me alone again, aru" he whispered slowly, avoiding as much stutters as he could –which he did quite well, considering he was still shaking and crying, not to mention his heart doing a drum-solo in his throat.

With his cheek pressed into the others back, he could hear how the Russian's heart first drummed very slow, like it was inclined to stop, then very fast ('Is he nervous, aru?'), then slower again, but at a healthy pace this time. How long this all took didn't matter to him; Ivan was _here_, in his arms (perhaps not willingly, but whatever), and not leaving him.

He both felt and heard the other take a deep breath, then release it all in an almost happy sigh. Still not taking risks, however, Yao just kept his arms around the broad chest in a death-grip, starting to tremble with exhaustion. Come on! He just had a mental breakdown and ran all the way here! Damn meeting being in such a big-

A hand landed on his fist. A big, warm hand that had clenched his shoulder and played with his hair some time ago. All thoughts stopped –except the ones fearing he would be pushed away.

'Please don't I don't want to be alone please don't leave don't make me release you don't push me away stay with me keep me don't leave me alone stay in my arms don't leave me _please don't leave me alone!_'

They stood like that for some time, Yao just holding the other in a continuous death-grip with his still streaming eyes clenched shut and his cheek pressed hard into the others back, who had one of his hands over the small nation's white-knuckled fists, arms encircling the chest starting to tremble hard with exhaustion.

Then his wrist was held in the hand, grip warm yet firm as his fist was slowly tugged away from the other's chest.

Now Yao panicked, whimpering and crying in the scarf and, if possible, tightening his hold on the other (who didn't seem the slightest bit winded with the now very strong hold around his chest). His heart started beating like mad while his mind went on a panicked frenzy.

'_Don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me-_'

If anything, it sounded like the mantra in his head was truly distressed now.

"I won't leave, da" was whispered, sounding serene and honest.

How could this guy calm him down with just a few words?

Whatever did, it did the job marvellously. Yao instantly felt how his tired arms and fists relaxed slightly, just holding Ivan in a tight embrace now instead of the death-grip. The mantra in his head ended, and while his heart still beat hard in his chest, it felt less rushed already. He could even feel his face relax in the other's back, eyes opening again.

He looked up, seeing how Ivan had turned his head to look at him. The taller nation couldn't crane his neck around far enough to look him in the eye, but he still gave him a calm smile. _Calm_, not innocent. It made him look so honest, Yao could barely keep himself from trusting the other blindly.

He wouldn't trust him _fully_, of course, but he would let him do what he wanted to do. For now.

Slowly unclenching his fists, he felt how the warm hand squeezed his wrist slightly before it tugged again, lifting his own hand from the other's chest. Instead of releasing his wrist, however, Ivan guided their hands to his shoulder before repeating the process with their opposites. Then he slowly released one, scooting a bit and bending forward before slowly grabbing the outside of Yao's knee, lifting it, then repeating it with the other side. It confused the smaller of the two, but he complied, gripping the shoulders to keep himself from falling.

Ivan rose, holding Yao above the ground, and started walking.

'_He's...giving me a...piggyback-ride, aru?_'

"Why-aru?" he asked, looking over a broad shoulder with half-lidded eyes.

Ivan smiled that calm smile again, still walking with apparently a set destination. "Because you sound tired, da. And you were shaking."

... At least it made some sense now. He _did_ feel a bit exhausted now that he could calm down again.

He closed his eyes, tiredly laying his head between two shoulder blades again with a deep exhale. The grip on his knees tightened a bit, Ivan lifting them higher and bending forward just a bit more so he could relax without worrying about falling too much.

"To where?" he asked softly, mind already going into a slumber-like state.

It took a moment before he got his answer, barely able to catch the soft-spoken words before he fell asleep in the other's grip.

"...Your home, da."

**-story ends here-**

AN: DON'T GO YET, PLEASE! I'm still working on (hopefully) the last part of this story. I know this would be a nice ending in itself, but I got this _reeaally_ nagging idea in the back of my head and it won't stop until I got it written out, I reckon.

Anyway, hope you still like the story. I noticed reviews are really nice, but I think faves are just as nice, so just a fave is okay.

If you notice any faults or strange parts, however, please tell me: I like to keep my stories neat (not that I ever published one before this).

...I had some more stuff to tell you people, but I forgot... Oh well, next AN, I suppose.

_Edit_: I hate it when I make mistakes. Thanks for pointing it out.


	3. I'll stay

**Chapter 3: I'll stay**

AN: I forgot to put a disclaimer in the last parts, so:

**I OWN NOTHING!**

Well except the ide- no wait that was my friend's, I just wrote it out. -.-'

Did anyone notice that the 'nanka-iru-aru' was directly taken from the manga? It's a bit of a word-joke, according to the translators, and I wanted to use it. ^^

I stayed up till 3.16AM to finish writing this, and I think this is the last part. Probably. I don't have any urges to continue this further, so I think I'm really finished. ^^

SPECIAL THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED, FAVED AND PUT ME ON ALERT! THANK YOU GUYS! YOU ARE ALMOST AS AWESOME AS GILBERT AND GILBIRD AND I WANT TO HUG YOU ALL! -heart-

**-real story starts here-**

"_To where?" he asked softly, mind already going into a slumber-like state._

_It took a moment before he got his answer, barely able to catch the soft-spoken words before he fell asleep in the other's grip._

"_...Your home, da."_

oOo

Yao jerked, almost waking up from his dreamless sleep: something- some_one_ was moving him, sitting him down and gradually removing that comfortable warmth he was resting on. His arms, draped over whatever he was sleeping on, were gently moved from hanging loosely to his own sides, one arm still gripped in a warm hand. That arm was lifted, then he felt the warmth, which was already twisting away from his front, move away fully and making the soft...whatever he was sitting on, bounce up a bit.

He really wanted to wake up now, just to see who was holding him up with a hand on his wrist and an arm around his shoulders. Floating around in a half-slumber made him aware of what happened around him, but he'd need to wake up to look around. He grumbled incoherently as he felt the other lower him, the familiar scent of his bed hitting his nose as the pillow poofed a bit from the weight of his head.

The small nation (1) squirmed a bit when he felt that hand gripping his ankle, gently removing his shoe while he tried to open his eyes, rolling his head to where he thought the other was. His eyelids, however, wouldn't comply immediately.

'They feel so damn heavy, aru...'

Finally able to open them to a crack as he felt his other shoe being removed, he had to blink away some crust from his eyelashes. Still not managing to lose it all (2), he tiredly brought a hand up to wipe it away, rubbing his eyes a bit when he still couldn't see that clearly.

'What happened?... They feel so...warm...'

First things first: he wanted to know who was tugging on the blanket he was laying on.

Slowly raising himself on his elbows, he looked down his bed at the moving blur at his feet. Repeatedly blinking his eyes, his vision cleared until he could see a silhouette of a tall, light-haired man tugging the last of his blanket from under his feet, white circled around and dangling from his neck.

'Ivan...?'

While his blanket was slowly draped over his body, his vision cleared more: over his feet, and he could define smaller body parts –nose and fingers and such- again, over his knees, and he could see the slight design on the other's formal shirt. When the blanket reached his tummy, the other's head turned, showing twin pools of violet. He blinked, and they sharpened to two calm, but slightly concerned eyes.

'Definitely Ivan, aru.'

"What..." he spoke, not really surprised when his voice came out slightly croaked; he was still half-asleep, though he didn't usually murmur his words so soft.

The Russian smiled a bit, eyes softening and closing just the slightest. "You fell asleep, da" he said softly, gently pushing on his shoulder to make him lie down again.

'Thanks, Ivan the Obvious, I hadn't noticed yet, aru.' While resisting the urge to roll his eyes –the situation _begged_ for it-, he couldn't keep a small frown from his face, still a bit sleepy. He lied back down at the other's urging, turning on his side a bit while the other finished pulling the blanket over him.

"And before I fell asleep, aru?" he murmured, looking up at Ivan with a face that clearly said the other would not be leaving before he got his answers. It would've looked more convincing if he wasn't so sleepy: it showed on his face, and combined with the frown, it gave him a pouty look.

Still, the tall nation stayed put, smiling softly at the other while making the bed even more comfortable, tucking him in and moving the pillows around a bit.

"You stopped me, and I gave you a piggyback-ride, da."

"Why?"

The other sat down, body half turned to face Yao while they spoke. His eyes softened a little bit more when he looked at the sleepy nation, smile small and honest as he answered. "You were tired, da. And shaking. And you wouldn't let go of me, anyway, da."

Yao blinked. 'Why would I hold onto-'

Everything crashed back into place. His eyes widened as his sleepy mind finally remembered everything that happened after the meeting: the talking, the sad touched, those _horribly_ sad eyes, his blurred vision, the slippery doorknobs, the crash. But most of all he remembered the sharp feeling of loneliness. He could still feel how cold he had been when the other had closed the door behind him, leaving him alone. It had dulled when he had reached the Russian, but he still felt a sharp pain and a wave of cold when he thought back.

"Yao-kun?" a soft voice interrupted, breaking him out of the trance-like state.

Oh great, his vision was blurry again.

Blinking, he looked up in slightly concerned violet eyes, gazing at him while that warm hand was raised to his face, stroking the hair away from his cheeks. It was a soft, caring gesture he hadn't received in a long time. Actually, the Russian had done more things for him than quite a number of others hadn't done lately. It was very comforting, like the other's company in general had been (after the initial squabble Yao himself raised). It kept his home from feeling lonely. The thought almost stopped the tears silently flowing down.

'_But he doesn't live here: soon, he'll have to go home as well.'_

The thought sent a sharp shot of pain in his chest, that wave of ice washing over him. Tears, which had begun to slow, now streamed over his cheeks again, wetting Ivan's fingers when he stroked his hair away.

'_I don't want to be alone. I don't want him to leave._'

"Yao?"

He snapped his wide-open eyes back to Ivan's face, gazing at the concerned look. He bit back a small sob, and reached for the hand stroking his cheek, gripping it.

"Don't leave..." he whispered, gazing up with a pleading look. He _needed_ the other's company right now.

Concerned violet eyes turned a bit misty –though still watching him-, the Russian probably thinking about the strange behaviour his friend displayed. Finally, they turned soft again, gazing at the Asian man while Ivan bent forward, planting a light touch of his lips on the other's forehead.

"I'll stay right here, da..." he said softly, pulling back and looking him straight in the eyes to show he was truly honest.

The pain slowly retreated, ice leaving his limbs and exhaustion taking over. "Then lay with me, aru" he whispered, his eyes drooping and tearmarks drying on his cheeks.

Ivan nodded, sitting up to pull his shoes and socks off. That done, he gently removed the scarf from around his neck, folding it and putting it aside as if it was a very precious thing. Then he lay back down, facing Yao. He was on top of the sheets while the other was tucked in, but Yao was too tired to really care. He grabbed one big hand, intertwining their fingers beside their head: though the other said he would stay, he didn't want to take any chances of the other leaving.

Ivan's eyes warmed at the action, smile widening just the smallest bit. He scooted a little bit closer, bunching up the blankets below him before apparently deciding he'd rather lay under them after all and pulled them from beneath him to over him with his free hand. When he had settled back in, he continued gazing at the Asian, eyes falling half-mast with that warm, soft expression still on his face.

Yao sighed. He was in bed, he was warm, and better yet: Ivan wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. With a small smile crawling its way on his face, he closed his eyes, gripping the other's hand firmly before succumbing fully to his exhaustion.

And as sleep fell once again, he felt another feather light kiss on his forehead, his ears barely catching the warmly spoken whisper before slipping in a warm dreamless sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Yao-chan.:

He smiled; he wouldn't be lonely again tomorrow.

**-end-**

_Notes:_

(1) With this I meant that Yao himself is small, not his nation. China's _big_, but Asian people tend to be small (I can tell; I'm half Chinese).  
>(2) No he isn't losing his mind, he just can't get rid of all that crusty stuff on his eyelashes (I hate it when I wake up and find that stuff on my eyes).<p>

Okay, everyone on three. One, two: **D'AWWWWWWWWWW. -heart-**

**It's finally finished!**

Hope you all enjoyed my first finished story! ^^

And I still think it's weird that this story pretty much wrote itself; my mind went through five different ideas throughout this part while my hand wrote completely other things because of Yao and Ivan. These guys really like writing their own story...

Oh, was it ever mentioned I use England's spell-check? I live in Europe, so I'm taught to use UK's English. ^^;

Again, I hate making mistakes, so if you ever spot something (a typo, something with grammar or spelling, or just a part that doesn't make sense whatsoever), _please_ tell me. And while I'm still begging: reviews make authors happy, and flames will be used to roast marshmallows on. ouo

And HELP! MY FRIEND'S GOT ANOTHER IDEA! O-O

_Edit:_ **I still need a good title**, so if anyone has any ideas...

_Edit2:_ **I have a title!** Thank you Iris Taishou!

_Edit3:_ Thank you Dewdropmon, for pointing out the shawl-scarf-thing. I didn't count, but I think I used shawl at least a dozen times in this. ^^;

Anybody got any ideas, by the way? My friend is too busy with school to really plant a plot-seed in my head, and I can't make my own plot(less) stories from scrap even if I wanted to. I'm trying, but... No.

Anything could work: some history, some random trade-fact... I made this one from a Wikipedia-page.

Anyhow, bye guys!


End file.
